


Man of Taste, A

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Vignette, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-04
Updated: 2003-07-04
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:50:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Some thirsts are easier to quench than others.





	Man of Taste, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Man of Taste, A

## Man of Taste, A

### by Rhetta

TITLE: A Man Of Taste  
AUTHOR: Rhetta  
**RATING: PG-13**  
CLASSIFICATION: Vignette  
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just let me know.  
**SPOILERS: '3'**  
DISCLAIMER: The 'X-Files' belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and FOX. Think of this as a friendly loan. SUMMARY: Some thirsts are easier to quench than others. AUTHOR'S NOTES: A big thanks to Sylvia for the great beta help. 

* * *

The clientele lately has been, if you'll pardon the pun, dead. No taste at all. 

No good taste anyway. 

I'm just about to take whatever's left when someone at the door catches my eye. 

Someone new. 

He's tall. Lean. Dark. And haunted. A living, breathing, tortured soul. 

I lick my lips and swallow slowly. I haven't been this intrigued since...well, a long time 

He scans the room with an intensity that is fascinating to behold, even from this distance. 

I run a finger along the top of my glass and smile. To think I was going to settle for leftovers tonight. 

After a few moments of searching he looks in my direction. I follow his line of sight to a woman with dark hair and red lips. I suppress a groan. The new girl. Kristen something. I should have known. 

She's at a table near the bar staring into a compact with a carefully blank expression. I shake my head slightly. Another tortured soul. Must be some kind of convention. 

How come I never get the invite to those things? 

I look back at him. He's moving slowly towards her with an easy, cat-like grace. All of the sudden I have a strong urge to purr. Or sharpen my claws on something. 

Hell, maybe both. 

As he gets closer I'm able to get a better look. He is, in a word, mesmerizing. 

Dark hair. Angular cheeks. Prominent nose. Full mouth. And eyes a deep hazel that look like they've seen too much in too short a time. I can practically taste his pain from here. 

Practically is not good enough though. I'm absolutely famished. 

I knew I should have had something small on the way here. 

He circles her table. She clicks her compact shut and looks up at him. I can't make out what she says, but whatever it was it gets him to sit down across from her. 

Probably something inspired like 'come here often' or 'hey, handsome.' 

I take a few calming breaths. Mustn't lunge. Mustn't lunge. 

Before I get the chance to sidle over there and let him know his plans for the evening have changed the new girl smiles and leans into him. They start talking with a charged intimacy, each one leaning into the other's space. At one point I even think his lips brush her ear. 

Personally I can think of other body parts I'd like his lips to brush. Wouldn't mind reciprocating either. 

Unfortunately he's staring at her as if she's the most interesting and enticing thing in existence. 

I love a man who can focus, but there is no way she could be that...focusable. 

Must be some kind of 'tortured' homing beacon. 

I sigh. So few men of taste left and they're all taken. By 'new' girls. 

The man sitting next to me at the bar touches my arm. I look over at him. He smiles and holds up his glass in what I'm assuming is a salute. 

Not the exact taste I was hoping for, but it'll do for now. 

Holding my glass up, I smile back.   
  


#### If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Rhetta


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